Let Me Tell You A Story
by Indigonoir
Summary: Nothing is guaranteed, not even a happy ending. Even if you get your Prince. Gwen has to fight if she wants to change the story. A sequel to The Soldier, The Witch and the Fool.
1. Chapter 1

Let Me Tell You A Story

Chapter 1

 _A Tragic History of a Kingdom_

Gwen reread the title of the book. The leather-bound book had been a wedding gift. Amongst dozens of gifts she received, she took little notice of the small book until Arthur brought it to her attention. Wrapped in beautiful handmade paper, someone had addressed the gift card to her.

"You have a secret admirer I don't know about?" Arthur said, with a quizzical smile.

A month into their marriage and her husband's playful nature had emerged with a gusto. It was as if someone had allowed him to play for the first time and he wanted to take full advantage. When they first met, she'd fainted at the sight of him. Swept away by a powerful sense of déjà vu and a bad bout of insomnia. Then, she thought him to be rigid and a playful as a rock. He thought even less of her. How they fell in love and married was a mystery to those around her. Sometimes, she had to pinch herself to ensure it was real.

"I have many admirers," she replied, willing to be playful.

When Arthur lost his smile, and a furrow formed on his brow, she lost hers. His familiar sky-blue eyes turned stormy. The gaze he fixed on her made her pause. Handsome, with a shock of wheat honey hair, strong jaw and a wide generous mouth, the sight of him sometimes made her breath catch. Yet there were sides to him, some he hid from. Over time, she'd learned to recognize them, the boy, the man, the prince.

"Yes, you do." His voice was low and barely above a whisper. When he took a step toward her, he took the book. With a brief glance at the gift, he tossed it on the bed with other unopened gifts.

"I've seen them," he said as he stepped even closer.

Gwen's searched his face to decipher this sudden change of mood. When he leaned in, his eyes fell upon the nape of her neck. His finger traced along the slope. She shivered at the touch and felt the edge his passion. So close, his breath caressed her cheek as he leaned ever closer.

"Their on a list," he continued. "The things I want to do to them you can't imagine."

This made Gwen turn toward him. When their eyes met, the storm remained. Yet the finger that traced the shape of her neck, became a caress. It went along the line of her breastbone and lingered. A shudder escaped her.

"Arthur," she said. The words sounded like a plea of reason. She knew it for was it really was. Arthur's love fueled his passion for her, the way a starving man savored his first bite of food. There were times it scared her, his need. Moments like these made her doubt her strength. Her inability to resist him, to tell him no. Because she never wanted to say no or deny him anything. He could devour her whole and she would hand him the spoon to do it.

"Guinevere," he said.

He had a way of saying her name like no other. Growing up, the name had caused her grief, and she opted for the shorten version. Not until she'd met Arthur Penn, had the sound of her full name sounded like music. He could make it feel like an enticement, a warning and a plea, all in the same breath.

"Who would send a wedding gift only to the bride?" Arthur whispered into her ear. When he pulled back and looked down into her eyes, she struggled to decipher his intent. Before she had a changed to respond, his lips were on her.

This was Arthur, caring little for her protest. To him, it didn't matter. She wanted to be angry but being kissed by him and staying angry was mentally impossible for her. What was she supposed to be angry about, anyway? Since their marriage, she'd gotten unsolicited advice, business offers and people who suddenly wanted to her friend. Gifts from people hoping they would get inside access to Penn Manufacturing through her, wasn't surprising.

At first, Arthur's wealth had been an obstacle in their relationship. Gwen still saw herself as the working girl who once lived in Brooklyn walkup. She counted her pennies, rode the subway and brought things on sale. Raised by her practical father, who taught her to judge a person by what they did, not by how much money they had in the bank. Though she took a while to get passed Arthur's wealth. Recently transplanted Britons, the Penn family could trace their family back to William the Conqueror. Their coat of arm had a dragon on it–a dragon!

Though she knew little of her mother's people, her father's people migrated up from Virginia and the Carolinas after the civil war. The only son of a sharecropper, Gwen paternal grandfather, wanted nothing to do with the Jim Crow South. First, living in New Jersey and later moving to New York to work in the Navy Yards, the family found a home in Brooklyn. By the time her father was a man, the Navy Yard was a distance memory. A jeweler by trade, he opened and close several businesses, before settling into an electronics small shop in downtown Brooklyn. The shop closed a few years ago with the death of her father.

When Arthur withdrew, it left her breathless. She took a moment to steady herself. When she did, she gave her husband of one month a long patient look. Looking pleased with himself, she crossed her arms and took a step away. If Arthur had his way, they'd never leave the bedroom.

When she worked for Arthur's sister Keira as her assistant, she learned about the stubbornness of the Penns. Determined, focused, single-minded and often arrogant seemed to be the innate family trait. Their father had instilled these traits in them since an early age. Most people could see passed the haughtiness for want it really was. A needed to please an overbearing father who believed in perfection as if it were religion. It cost him their love if not their loyalty.

"Arthur!" Gwen scolded. Now that she'd gotten her senses back, she kept a healthy distance from her husband. She held out her hand expectedly.

Arthur's eyes narrowed on her again. She mirrored the look. They stood that way for a moment before he reluctantly retrieved the book and handed it to her.

"If it's from the little wanker in accounting, he will count floor tiles in our warehouse, Yugoslavia." Arthur said with a wicked smile.

Gwen gave him a puzzle look. "You don't have a warehouse in Yugoslavia."

"I'll build one."

"Arthur!" She warned.

"Guinevere," he replied.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head and turned her attention to the book. It almost fit in the palm of her hand. The blood red handcrafted cover had the gold imprint of the title. At first, Gwen thought it an odd gift, until she found the dedication page. The familiar handwritten note and signature clarified everything. When she showed it to Arthur, he sighed in aggravation.

"Criminal." He cursed.

"Cassandra is not a criminal. I wish you stop calling her that." Gwen complained.

"She drugged me," he said.

Gwen laughed. "She did not."

"She calls those concoctions she makes teas, but I bet a chemist would say otherwise," Arthur retorted.

This made Gwen smile and walked over and gave her husband a kiss on his cheek in compensation. He wouldn't get any early morning loving making nor would he get Cassandra Drake out of their lives.

"I still think she's a criminal," he said, as he wrapped an arm around her waist. His eyes holding out hope for something more.

"You don't want me to tell her you said that," Gwen mused.

Arthur stiffened, released her and took a step away. She wondered if his look of disappointed had something to do with his thwarted plans or the mention of Cassandra.

"I'm going to make coffee," he said in a huff and left her.

Gwen smiled, knowing Arthur was still a little fearful of Cassandra. The book still in her hand, she reread the note.

 _If you think your story is over, it's not. If you think you've gotten your happy ending, you haven't. Seek the wizard and beware the witch._

 _Love Always_

 _Cassandra_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

There were back in the city. Two weeks ago, she had been unmarried, living in Brooklyn and trying to pay down her Visa Card. Upon her return to New York City, she had a husband, an unfurnished Penthouse and a Black American Express card. The whole thing made her head spin. All the while away, she missed the city. The rattle and hum, the kaleidoscope of color, sounds and emotion. Arthur thought she was mad. He didn't understand the wide eyed alertness to a living and breathing thing. Gwen took a deep breath as she sat back seat of the luxury car, another compromised to Arthur. He didn't like her riding the subway, even though she'd done it all her life. So, when she did ride it, she didn't tell him.

"It's the shop with the green awning." She instructed to the driver, a man called Gareth. From the set of his shoulders, constant watchfulness, she suspected he was more than a driver Arthur hired. Another conversation she had to have with her husband. For now, it seemed urgent she get where she was going.

"Just let me out of here," Gwen said.

Deep chocolate brown eyes stared back at her from the rear view mirror.

"Ma'am?" Gareth said.

"Why don't you go around the corner, get a cup of coffee and I'll call you when I'm ready to leave." She suggested.

Those brown eyes gave her a long patience look and sighed.

"I prefer tea," he said and pulled into a parking spot a few cars up from the shop.

Gwen thought about arguing, but she knew it would be a waste of time. The person she needed to speak was a tall, stubborn blond man. She only sighed in response and allowed Garth to park the car and escort her to the shop.

The minute she opened the door and heard the tiny bell that announced customers, Gwen relaxed. Not much light entered the shop, so there was always a warm golden glow to the place. She let the mixtures of scent engulf her. The feeling of beginning welcome covered her like a blanket. The small shop still held its charm. From the rich dark polished mahogany wood, cut glass and metal display cabinets and sparse sitting, it wasn't a place for the masses. Gwen even suspected that it was by invitation only that one could make their way to the small downtown shop.

What disturbed her was the Gareth. His wary gaze and rigid stance seemed out of place. Standing a bit too close to her, she turned to face him. A man in his late thirties, with a ruddy complexion that hinted he spent a lot of time outside, his face seemed drawn tight.

"Is there something wrong, Gareth?" Gwen asked.

"Arthur must have told him about this place." A familiar female voice announced with some amusement. Cassandra Drake emerged from a back room. Her long dreads tied up in an intricate bun. Decorated with small sea shells, her hair sat atop of her head like a crown. Her bright smile counteracted Gareth's grimness. Her nutmeg colored skin glowed with health and warmth.

"Easy there, Seal Team Six," she teased.

Gareth balked.

Cassandra threw back her head in laughter as she embraced Gwen into a long hug. When Cassandra step back, her gaze remained on Gareth, giving him a speculative look. Gwen knew what was coming and smiled.

"I think…. you need…." Cassandra took a step around him. From a small pocket from and oversize sweater, she pulled out a pair of vintage cat eye glasses. "You need my….no…no…you need my Homecoming Tea."

"What?" Gareth's confusion seemed almost comical to Gwen. Cassandra was an acquired taste. She couldn't help but smile at his discomfort.

"Homecoming, it's my own special blend, like everything in the shop." As she spoke, she gently took Gareth by his forearm and guided him to a large overstuff wingback chair. Upholstered in a tapestry like fabric decorated with various depictions of dragons. At first, Gareth protested as Cassandra almost pushed him into the chair. Despite his large size, the chair seemed to envelop him.

"Stay." She pointed a warning finger at him as she went behind a beautiful French desk. Behind it, was a wall. In neat little cubbyholes were an assortment of cups, mugs, glasses and other receptacles. Thoughtfully, Cassandra scanned the wall until she came upon a small metal cup. It looked worn and aged by use.

Gareth turned to Gwen for assistance. She only smiled as Cassandra prepared tea for Gareth. For the uninformed, Cassandra's witchy behavior could be off putting. But Gwen had no sympathy for the hapless Gareth. When she approached him with a steamy cup of God only knew Gwen tried not to laugh, but gave Gareth a stern look if he refused. Like the soldier she suspected he once was, he took it.

"The battle of Shiloh, on the morning of April 6th, near the Tennessee River, by Pittsburg Landing. General Johnston attacked an encampment of Union soldiers. They were unprepared and nearly overwhelmed Grant's army." Cassandra began softly, as she stirred the contents of the small metal cup.

"They fought until dark, but the Union held on until reinforcements came. Grant rebounded and drove the Confederate from the field. Over twenty thousand perished in those two days. Private Micah Forsyth was one of them and suffered a wound to his right shoulder that cost him his arm. He survived. Went back home to New York, Hudson Country. He raised five children and died at the ripe old age of eighty-one. In the small town he returned to, there's a small brass plaque at their courthouse."

Cassandra held out the cup to a wide eyed Gareth, at first reluctant, took it. He gave it a quick sniff and slowly put it to his lips. His first tentative sip was expected, then he took another. It was followed by a deep sigh. The sternness and watchful gaze softened as he stared up at Cassandra, who smiled down at him.

"Welcome home," she said before leaving him to his new found peace.

"Arthur probably told him I was a drug dealer," she said with an amused huff as she turned her attention to Gwen.

Gwen laughed, but wouldn't put it passed Arthur. Before she followed Cassandra into the private back room, she gave Gareth a last look. The far off peaceful gaze on his face seemed a better one for him, she thought.

Inside the tiny office that smelled like a Chinese apothecary shop, Gwen took a seat across from Cassandra. A glass electric kettle was on the verge of boiling as Cassandra placed down a beautiful, delicate bone china cup before Gwen. Decorated with little bees, gold trimmed and matching saucer. Different from the plain ceramic one she once had.

"The shop looks wonderful as always," Gwen said to make small talk. Cassandra said nothing as she mixed teas from various jars into a small teapot. Focused on her work, she responded with a nodded. When the tea was ready, she poured a cup for Gwen.

When looked down at the greenish gold liquid. Like Gareth, she hesitated. Not because she did not know what concoction Cassandra had made her, but because she did. Gwen knew if she followed Cassandra down this rabbit hole, there would be no going back. Before she took a sip, she dug into her pocketbook and pulled out the small book Cassandra had gifted her. Gwen placed it on the tiny table next to her.

"Nice dedication," Gwen said, never once taking her eyes off Cassandra. "A little cryptic."

This time Cassandra sighed, displaying a hint of disappointment.

"You know how this goes Guinevere." Cassandra said and took her seat.

Gwen shook her head.

"I always feel you know something I don't. Like you know what's going to happen." Gwen confessed.

Cassandra's lips quirked up in amusement.

"I know your past, all of them, never your future. That is unwritten and for you to write."

Gwen gave a derisive huff of disbelief.

Cassandra pointed to the cup.

"That's not very helpful," Gwen said.

Cassandra sat back in her chair, placed her hands in her lap and gave Gwen a contemplative look.

"You've come here for a reason and it's not the inscription in some damn book."

The change in Cassandra's tone set Gwen's shoulders. Determined to come to a point, she leaned forward and met Cassandra's gaze.

"Those dreams are back." Gwen said as if relieved the truth was finally out. "Not just Arthur. He's in them of course, he's always in them."

"What do you see." Concern and curiosity decorated Cassandra's face.

"Fire, there always fire. The castle, men screaming in pain. There's blood, always blood. It's a nightmare." Gwen fell back in her seat as if exhausted from the truth.

"Where are you in it," Cassandra asked.

"I don't know. I wake up disoriented as if I've stepped into the middle of a movie. I woke Arthur once so badly, he was ready to send me to the hospital. With each nightmare, I feel more and more afraid. As it will all crumble down."

The two women sat without speaking for a while, before Cassandra pointed to the teacup. Without protest this time, Gwen took a sip and then another. The rich, spicy mixture warmed her instantly.

"As I told you, I only know your past. All the permutations, the horrible endings and false hopes. All your lives with Arthur are stories of hope and tragedy. In a thousand lives and in a thousand ways, you always make the same mistake."

"What is that?" Gwen asked. Her voice thick from sleepiness. Whatever Cassandra had given her, pushed back at the edges of her dread.

"In every story of Arthur, he will do what does, brave to the end. The wizard will play his part, believing only he thinks he can save Arthur. The witch, whose story is heartbreaking enough to break a soul, will seek a revenge. It will end in her own demise, but not before she destroys those around her. Then there is Guinevere, always depicted as nothing more than an ornamental love interest, or some betraying spouse. Do not play that role."

"I don't understand." Gwen replied. She felt exhausted suddenly.

Cassandra leaned forward and smiled.

"I know sweetie."

"Then what?"

"Did you know the most powerful piece on a chess board is the Queen." Cassandra said with a knowing look.

Not a chess player, she didn't know.

"The Queen?"

"That god damn ornamental, betraying hussy." Cassandra with a grin and a fire in her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Let Me Tell You A Story

Chapter 3

Gwen walked into the Penn Corporate offices as the wife of one of the owners of the company, carrying several bags of Cassandra's teas and a dire warning. Like most things with Cassandra, Gwen was wary of her warnings, prediction and her teas. Yet all of them brought her to this point, married to the man she loved. Between dealing with her new role in the company and in the Penn family, her head spun. She wanted to remain Keira's administrative assistant, the Penns had other ideas.

"How would that look Gwen, the wife of Arthur as some secretary?" Keira scolded.

"What difference does it make?" Gwen replied.

Arthur sat at the edge of his desk, arms cross, shaking his head in disapproval. Just before she left to meet Cassandra, she'd told her husband of her plans to remain working with Keira. He'd been in mid bite, blue eyes locked her as if she'd been a new found species of goldfish. An imperious blond brow slowly rose, he placed his toast down and took a deep inhalation.

"Guinevere," he said.

Gwen signed. The way Arthur said her name less like a noun than a verb always got to her. He could change its meaning with a tilt of his head, scolding look or teasing smile. At the moment she wasn't sure which one it was.

"Arthur," she mimicked.

"When you told me, you wanted to keep your apartment in Brooklyn, I didn't complain. Though the idea my wife had what you American's call a She Shed in a borough away from me, doesn't make me happy."

This time Gwen huffed.

"It is not a She Shed. And I'm not keeping it to get away from you. Merlyn needs a new apartment and I wanted him to have it. It's a great neighborhood for him and he'd love the place. And truth be told Arthur Penn…" Gwen looked around the spacious penthouse and back to her husband. "It has more furniture than this."

Arthur smiled. The lack of furniture in the apartment had been Gwen's biggest complaint about her husband. The first time he brought her there, the minimalist lifestyle he'd developed since moving to American was hard to change. Gwen helped. With her came all her things. Most importantly, it allowed him to bring things into the apartment with her. A painting they brought from the honeymoon in England. An oak dining table that Gwen found in an antique shop on the East Side. Their family photos, Arthur never wanted to display until now. It was becoming less and less his apartment and more into theirs.

"It's evolving," he said and took a bite of his toast. "Like you are. Being Keira's administrative assistant won't work."

Arthur wore the same face he'd worn that morning. His attitude hadn't changed since then. What surprised her was Keira insistence. Despite the turmoil of the last few months, with the death their father and Keira gaining control of the company, the friendship found its footing again. Gwen had taken sides. Though they had grown close and become friends, Keira's power play to take over the company nearly destroyed it. She stood behind Arthur, not only because she loved him, but because it was the right thing to do. In the end, they came together, resolving their issues and standing together as a family. Their father's secrets nearly destroyed them.

"I have the perfect idea," Kiera said with a mischievous grin. "You practically saved the Garnier Fashion house singlehanded. With a young new designer, it's position to become a global name. With my other duties, I can't help it do that, but you can."

Arthur's brows furrowed at the mention of Garneau. With Garneau came its handsome French designer Chevalier. A man who made it clear his affection for his wife. Though Chevalier remained a gentleman, he preferred to keep him at arms lengths.

"I was thinking of something else?" Arthur said tersely.

For half a breath the siblings exchanged a strained look with each other until Keira broke the tension with a luminous smile.

"You can't still be jealous of Luc Chevalier, get over yourself." Keira laughed.

Arthur didn't.

Gwen felt the tension rise between them and she thought of Cassandra's words about Keira. Though peace had been made, there remained an unspoken truth. Though Keira was technically the head of Penn, it was Arthur everyone turned to when questions needed answering, plans drawn and the future. Keira noticed it as well. Arthur reassured her this would take time before those around them adjusted to the position. Keira smiled and nodded.

After Cassandra's warning, Gwen wanted to stay close to Keira. Remaining her assistant would do that, but the Penns other idea, each for different reasons. Arthur's she understood clearly. For him it was about appearances, tradition and status. For Keira it seemed like something else.

"But I love working with Keira," Gwen complained, even though it was the furthest thing on her mind. Keira had grown secretive over time. Though they remained friendly, since her takeover of the company, they seemed no longer friends.

"I do too darling, but Arthur's right. You're more than a secretary. Your handling of Garneau proved that. Anyway, I've already hired another assistant, because I know you would feel obligated not to leave me alone," She said brightly.

"What!" Gwen said in surprised by the new revelation.

"While you were on your honeymoon in England, I interviewed for the position and found someone. So, don't worry yourself about me."

"See!" Arthur said, giving his sister an appreciative look.

Gwen didn't know what to say. She knew working with Garneau would keep her out of Penn office most days. She wouldn't be able to keep an eye on Keira.

"I've already told Garneau you'll be working with them full time, and they were ecstatic." Keira continued, oblivious of Gwen's barely contained distress.

Arthur came off this desk and walked over to her to place an arm around her shoulders. He had picked up on her unease, even if Keira hadn't. How could she tell him why she was distressed? That would include her visit to Cassandra and her warning.

 _Arthur, he will do what does, brave to the end._

Those words played in her head as she stared into his blue eyes. Another war with his sister would destroy them both. Then there was Keira, a woman-child, whose childhood pain of abandonment by both men she'd call her father dictated her life. Alistair Penn had denied having a child with his best friend's wife most of her adult life. As invisible as they were, their betrayal left scars. Behind good breeding, a flawless beauty and boundless wealth, Keira remained to child looking for love from people who didn't know how to give it. The only true person who loved her for who she was, was the one person she envied, Arthur. The one person she had left to direct her anger. Gwen wouldn't allow that.

 _It will end in her own demise, but not before she destroys those around her._

She wanted to say something, but she was in no position to dictate where she worked at Penn. Saying no outright would make Keira suspicious and Arthur concerned. Cassandra told her to play the part until she didn't have to, an ornamental queen.

"That's great, I love working with them. I know Luc is working on their ready wear collection and marketing can't wait to get their hands on it." Gwen said with a cheerfulness she didn't have.

"Why is everyone so glum," a familiar voice from behind them said. They turned to find Merlyn in the doorway holding a box.

At closer inspection, Gwen recognized a framed picture of her father and realized the box were filled with her things.

"Why does Merlyn have my stuff?" She stepped away from her husband walked over to Merlyn. Inside the box were all the personal things from her desk. Most of it from the desk just outside of Keira's office.

"Are you ready," Merlyn said, with clear delight on his face.

"Why is my stuff in a box?" Gwen turned to Arthur and Keira, each wearing a smile. "Why is everyone smiling?'

Arthur walked over to her, place his arm around her waist and shook his head.

"You're a hard woman to surprise Guinevere, so stop asking questions and come with me," Arthur said and guided her out of his Keira's office. Merlyn and Keira followed behind.

"Arthur what is this about?" Gwen asked as a ball of tension filled her stomach. She turned around to see a much to please with herself Keira smiling back at her.

"Gwen you're acting like we're marching you to your death," Keira teased.

Joke as it was, Gwen felt like they were. When they stopped at one of several closed doors of the executive suite, she held her breath. The moment opened the door, she began to breath again as he guided her inside.

The office had been newly furnished. Decorated in her favorite pale colors. A beautiful ornate French style desk anchored the place. On it was a small framed picture of Gwen and Arthur on their wedding day. It was beautiful.

"Do you like it?" Arthur asked tentatively.

She smiled at him and nodded. What was not to love.

"Told you," Keira added. "If she's going to in charge of the Penn's fashion division, she can't do it as my assistant."

Keira came over to her and hugged her tightly. It made Gwen wonder if she'd been wrong. Had she misread Keira's intent. Had Cassandra conjured up a fanciful tale in her head? Keira seemed genuinely happy for her.

"I expect you do great things." Keira said as she stepped back to face her. "The purchase of Garneau and putting you in charge was my idea. So, you have to make it a success."

Gwen nodded, because there was truth in Keira's words. When everyone thought she might fail, Keira acquired Garneau, obtained Luc Chevalier from a prestigious French fashion house and introduced to the American fashion world. She'd put Gwen in charge of it all.

"I won't let you down." Gwen promised and meant those words. For a moment, all was good. In this world, Keira loved her brother. In this world, all past hurts were forgiven.

"I guess it's settled, you'll work with Chevalier." Arthur said sourly.

"Get over yourself Arthur," Keira joked. "We have a meeting in about a meeting and I won't hear another word about it."

Arthur sighed, conceded he was outnumbered. Arthur and Keira lingered for a moment before leaving together to attend a meeting. It left Gwen alone with Merlyn, who'd busied himself emptying her box of things. With nothing more to say about her reassignment, she helped Merlyn with the remainder of the desk.

When they finished, Gwen took a seat at her desk. It was a lot to take in. A husband, new position and the sneaking suspicion she been manipulated.

"Merlyn, can I ask you a question." She stared up at the dark hair man, who still had such boyish qualities, it was hard to take him serious at times.

"Yes, your majesty." He did a little playful bow.

"Really Merlyn," Gwen scolded. "I'm being serious."

Merlyn tried to wipe the smile off his face but couldn't.

"Keira?" Gwen said, her eyes set on the opened office door.

"What about her?" Merlyn followed her gaze.

"Should I trust her?" She said solemnly.

Merlyn's smile vanished.

"Are you mad."


	4. Chapter 4

Let Me Tell You A Story

Chapter 4

Arthur seemed fascinated with Gwen's ability to cook. Not with just roasting a chicken, but her ability to fix an entire meal. He would be the first to admit, he never used the kitchen, except for making coffee or burning toast. Besides buying the best equipment, pots, pan and dishes, he didn't think had much use of the room. Arthur ate at restaurants when he was hungry

When Gwen first came to live in the apartment, the pristine and beautiful kitchen looked untouched. She felt like she stepped into a cover shot of a magazine. At first, she resisted cooking anything in it but got over it. Determined to make the house a home, despite complaints from her new husband, Gwen went about cooking dinner most nights. Gwen insisted they have proper meals. Over time, he loved watching her cook and eating the results.

"Thanksgiving." Gwen said as stirred a pot of tomato sauce.

"What?" Arthur stared up at her. He'd been setting the table for dinner. One of the few domestic chores Gwen demanded of him. This required him buying a dining table first. Like with anything else, Arthur took it like he planned to overthrow of a small country. There were samples, designers and of course Gwen's opinion. What should have taken a few days, took weeks. The result was a handmade cherry wood dining table made by a local artist in Connecticut. Arthur thought this contribution was enough to appease his wife. Gwen had other plans. A proper table would allow them to invite people over. Which she did.

"I want to do Thanksgiving this year. Invite all our friends." Gwen explained. She checked the pasta in the large pot before giving him her full attention.

"You know half the people you'll invite will be Brits," he said with a sly grin.

Gwen huffed.

"Some of them are married to Americans." Gwen playfully, pointed to herself. "Or have American friends who have invited them to a Thanksgiving celebration at least once. It's not like it's the Fourth of July."

This time Arthur huffed.

"I won't even talk about that."

Gwen laughed.

"I just want our family and friends to get together," she insisted.

Arthur gave her a thoughtful look.

"What you really mean is, you want to make sure Keira and I stay on good terms."

Gwen sighed. It was hard to hide her concerns when the siblings were together. Keira had come to the apartment several times for dinner. Often, the evening digressed into Keira and Arthur disagreeing on how do handle the future of Penn.

"We're good," he said.

Gwen didn't believe him. Keira and Arthur's father Aldrich Penn's shoes were hard to fill. He had been larger than life. The business community saw the elder Penn's death as a devastating blow to the company. Many had little faith that the company could recover, after Keira's attempt of a takeover. She'd allowed others to manipulate her to get control of the company. It almost destroyed what Aldrich had built. If it were not for Arthur, many would have abandoned the once stable company. Arthur had righted the ship and everyone knew it, especially Keira.

"I know," Gwen lied.

"Father never really allowed her to learn from him. He gave her pet projects to keep her busy and nothing more. It was my mistake for not fighting for her. Keira is smart, smarter than most people realize, especially father. She's a wiz at program developing and can write code faster than even Merlyn. Father never saw that side of her, not until the end. The she used those abilities to get back at him."

"Maybe she was learning from him. Because between the two of you, she's more like your father than you care to admit." Gwen confessed.

Arthur said nothing and put the last of the silverware down. He remained silent as he went in search of a bottle of wine for dinner. He took his time finding the opener and opening the bottle. When he poured a glass for them both, he seemed caught in some contemplation before he held out her glass to her. Gwen took the wine glass and sip. The taste made her smile. It had been a bottle they had brought on their honeymoon. Arthur made a point of getting several bottles to take home with them.

"I see him in her. The way she smiles when something has gone well. Their generosity when they like someone. Or, when she gets frustrated when we argue over some inane thing. The way she believes in things, with her whole heart, without compromise or forgiveness. The way she holds in her anger like a weapon," Arthur lamented. He brought the glass to his lips, but he hesitated before he took a sip.

"She loves you. I know that." Gwen interjected.

Arthur nodded. "I love her too. But she loves the way my father loved… with conditions."

Arthur put his glass down and walked over to Gwen. She did the same and slipped her arms around him.

"You just need to remind her; you want the same things. To make Penn strong and profitable," she said. Gwen knew with the majority of stock going to Keira, technically, she was the head of the company. Yet it was Arthur who sat at the helm.

She sensed the tension in him ease, but not by much. The hug they had fallen into was a source of comfort to them both. For the rest of the meal they avoided talking about business, Keira and the late Aldrich Penn.

"I'm not drinking that." Arthur stared down at the cup of tea Gwen held out to him after they finished dinner.

"You always have tea after dinner," Gwen complained.

An imperious blond brow rose on Arthur's face.

"You've also visited Cassandra. God knows what's in it."

"Chamomile." An annoyed Gwen said. "It will help you sleep."

"It will help me have weird dreams like the last time. I should report that woman." Arthur retorted.

"You will not. It's just tea, Arthur. And for once you will go to bed early." Gwen said firmly. "You bring home work and get up early to do more work. Our honeymoon was the only vacation you had in years. And if I hadn't taken away your phone, you would have worked."

Arthur stared at the cup and then at his determined wife. To Gwen, he looked like a pouty child refusing to take his medicine. When he sighed and took it, she felt relief. Gwen had a cup of her own and insisted they sit where they would have a view of the city. The night had a hint of summer as the city below came alive with lights and sounds. They got into a habit of cuddling on the sofa during the evening when Arthur freed himself from work. Gwen loved these moments when she had Arthur to herself.

Before long, city, gazing had given way to kiss. Between moments of trying to catch his breath, Arthur talked as if someone had opened a floodgate to his emotion.

"Why is it, I feel a kind of madness with you?" He said as he placed kisses along the nape of her neck. "I fall into you and you catch me every time. You make me want to pour myself into you. Tell me why?"

Before she could respond, they became a tangle of limbs. His mouth pressed to her, his breath filling her. She fed off his passion. It felt the sun, warming and giving her life.

"Why?" he continued as his hands searched and found her.

"Arthur," she begged as she felt herself losing control. Arthur had found the clasp to her bra and release it. He would without regret make a mess of her.

"I see you every time. When things around me seem uncertain, you are always there." After that, Arthur said nothing more. As promised, Arthur went to bed early, but they didn't sleep. Nor did they think of Keira, Penn or anything else. Though Gwen held a tinge of guilt.

The tea.

Cassandra insisted that she give it to Arthur until the tiny package she'd give her was empty. When Gwen asked why.

"It's only a matter of time before Arthur will have to confront Kiera. It will be inevitable. You cannot lull him into a false belief that Keira holds him no ill will. He needs to see her for what she is and what she will do. The tea will offer clarity."

"I don't think tea works that way," Gwen said with some disbelief.

"Mine does," Cassandra replied with a bemused smile. "Those who ignore history, will be doomed to repeat it. Your story with Arthur is long and it has played out the same way. Different variations, but the same. I only have so many lives to fix this, so many chances to change the story."

Gwen signed. Once again, the woman talked in riddles.

"Arthur thinks you're a witch." Gwen joked.

This made Cassandra laugh. Her deep, throaty voice filled her tiny shop.

"You know what my favorite quote is?" she asked Gwen.

Gwen shook her head.

"It's by John Lennon. He said _'_ _I believe in everything until it's disproved. So, I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?'_

"I don't think I'll tell Arthur that one." Gwen said before leaving the shop.

As their evening wound down, Gwen thought of that conversation she had with Cassandra in her small tea shop in downtown Manhattan. The acerbic shop owner believed, with all her heart the magic of her teas. Despite what Arthur called witchy qualities, Cassandra had never been wrong. She knew that she would find love with Arthur, and knew of the death of Aldrich Penn and Keira's duplicity. If she believed Cassandra, Keira would try again to hurt those close to her, destroy Penn and leave Gwen with nothing. Gwen fell asleep in Arthur's arms and believed in Cassandra Drake.


	5. Chapter 5

Let Me Tell You A Story

Chapter 5

Something stirred Gwen awake. If she had to say what it was, she couldn't, but she knew something was – wrong. She wanted to go back to sleep. So, she turned to the warmth of her husband and the certainty of his embrace. There was nothing. Arthur was gone. The space next to her was empty. The sheets were cold and her heart braced.

"Arthur." His name came out as a whisper. A sense of dread wrapped around it like choking vine.

Gwen sat up. The clock on the bedstand read 4:30 A.M. as she slipped out of bed. Barefooted, she came out of the bedroom to the darkened expansive apartment. The eerie quiet put her at ease as the New York City lights played along the walls and ceiling. It silhouetted the broad shoulders of her husband as he sat by the window. He sat on the bare floor, dress in pajama bottoms and nothing else. The sight made her pause.

This was Arthur alone. An island unto himself. A fortress that allowed no one to get too close. It made her wonder what had driven him from his bed and her. This was the man she first met. The man who she thought could never love or be love by anyone. This was Arthur in his castle. She took a step closer.

"Arthur," she said.

At first, he did nothing. Then he turned to her. A smile on his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. This was Arthur trying, she knew.

"Did I wake you?" He said apologetically.

"No," she said and came closer to him. She stood by the window and stared down at the street. The chaos of the city seemed a vague memory to her. The few scattering of people seemed to walked the streets like a ghost. The red and green traffic lights pulse threw the city. When she turned to him, he struggled to hide the concern on his face.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

He shook his head as if to discard some bad thoughts.

Gwen didn't go to him. It took all her effort not to, no matter how badly she wanted. Since their marriage, time with Arthur allowed her to understand his moods. She would not push or pull at him. He trusted honesty above all else and betrayal was his kryptonite. She learned to look pass his intelligence, breeding and Britishness to see him for who he was. To cut through that well-rehearsed politeness that often annoyed her.

She abandoned her view of the city and walked over to him and sat down. When he turned to her, the storm in those blue eyes, calmed. His movement was slow and deliberate. It came in waves. His senses seemed to engage one at a time. He took in the sight of her. The lights from the city made her caramel colored skin glow. He became fascinated by the base of her neck and drew in closer. He took a deep inhalation.

"You smell like summer," he seemed to say to himself.

When he placed his hand on that spot, his hand slipped beneath her nightgown. He pulled it away from her shoulder. When he kissed the exposed spot, she shuddered. She didn't resist when he pulled close and melted into the kiss.

This was the Arthur she loved, opened, vulnerable and hers. A man so willing to give himself to the fire that it scared him. He admitted to her once, how she frightened him.

"The way you know me." Arthur said. They were alone in his office after a rather tense meeting where he had lost his temper. He'd raged at a staff whose mistake caused delay on a project. Anyone who knew him, knew that rage would turn to a cold hard anger and no one was safe. A trait he'd acquired from his taciturn father.

Merlyn had recommended that Gwen intervene on behalf of anyone in Arthur's vicinity. Reluctant to get between Arthur and anyone, she did. When she arrived in the office, his fury flared at her like a blast from a furnace. She stood there and took it, only for a moment.

"When you calm down, you won't be proud of this. Of the words you can't take back, or the hurt you've caused. You cultivated a sense of pride in the company, your father never could. A staff that love and respect you. They love you because they feel they can come to you and tell you anything, even the bad stuff. Mr. Wallace, the staff you yelled at is a good man, a great worker. He felt safe enough to admit he'd made a mistake. He didn't have to but he did. He didn't expect a handshake or a pat on the back, but he didn't deserve that."

Arthur glared at her; his fury still evident.

"This is business Gwen," he said, the coolness of his voice solidified the wall he put up.

"This is life Arthur. People make mistakes. Brave men hone up to them. Before you decided to treat him like peasant in some medieval melodrama. He wanted to propose several options that might help the project catch up. You didn't hear that because you were too busy acting like your father to hear," Gwen said.

At the mention of his father, Arthur froze. His furor turned inward. Gwen knew, Arthur loved his father, but he didn't want to be him. Gwen gave him a moment to process that before she came to him.

"This is not you Arthur," she said, her tone soft and pleading. She placed a hand on his cheek and smiled at him. His breathing slowed, his eyes focused and then he sighed.

"This project is important and I shouldn't…"

She stopped his words with a kiss. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but a place marker to for him to remember, he was his father's son, but he wasn't his father.

"The way you know me," he said.

That moment came to mind as Arthur pulled her on his lap. Gwen fell into his arms and reminded him how well she knew him. The darkness that had pulled him from his bed was a memory. They were Gwen and Arthur, souls entwined for eternity. They shed the clothes like snakes, limbs coiled and uncoiled. Time had made their lovemaking a homecoming, a renewal of faith in each other. For Arthur, he was a starving man, his mouth devoured her. He suckled, stroked and consumed her. Gwen struggled for control, always with him. His ability to turn her off and on like a light switch, worried her. If she allowed, he could be overwhelming. It was a losing battle as she fought against the pressure of her own senses.

"Arthur," she pleaded for him to stop or slow down. His response was to cover her mouth with his, drowning her protest in kisses.

At some point, Gwen gave in the sense of falling. Her moans encouraged him as he left her wanting more as she spun out of control. It left her limp and boneless.

They lay there for a time, satisfied with their ability to bring each other to the edge of madness. Please with the knowledge, that at any moment they could do it again and again. They felt safe in their nakedness that had nothing do with their bodies.

"Why did you get out of bed," Gwen asked, nestled tight in Arthur's arm.

He said nothing at first, and Gwen feared his black mood might return.

"I had this nightmare or dream. Can't decide which. That something was coming, coming for me. At first, I thought I couldn't stop it. Then at the edge of it, there was something…. an answer. But before I could get it, I woke up. I came out here to think." He confessed.

"Did you get an answer?" Gwen rose up to look down at him.

Arthur shook his head.

"No, because I don't know what it is." He said.

Gwen thought of Cassandra's tea and cursed herself for giving it to Arthur before bedtime.

"It's important. I'm at the tip of it," he said with certainty.

Gwen stared into blue eyes that seemed to be searching for something.

"Don't think too hard about it. Give yourself time, it will come." She reassured.

Arthur nodded and pulled her back down to him. They stayed like that for a while before Gwen encouraged him back to bed. Arthur fell into sleep with ease, Gwen did not. She thought of Cassandra and her warning. She sat up in bed and watched her husband sleep.

"Goddamn you Cassandra," she said beneath her breath.

Something was coming. Cassandra insisted it was Keira. Yet Keira had made no overt moves to take over Penn Industries. In fact, she's gone out of her way to work with Arthur to strengthen the company's place in the business world. Though she didn't have Arthur's expertise, she had an innate ability to pull all the best people to her. If she didn't know, she found someone who did.

If Kiera was up to something, it was up to her to find out what it was. Arthur couldn't, not yet. He was making an effort to connect with his sister. To anyone was looking, Keira seemed to be doing the same thing. If she had to choose between which one was lying, she'd go with her sister-in-law. Keira recent decision to remove her as her assistant never sat right with her. Gwen suspected there was more to it than her new position as Arthur's wife.

Being careful not to wake Arthur, she slipped out of bed, grabbed her phone and went to the bathroom. It's going on six in the morning and dialed a familiar number. It took several rings before someone answered.

"Hello," a groggy Merlyn said.

"Sorry to bother you," Gwen said.

"No problem, just deep in a sexy dream with my favorite actress. No worries." Merlyn said, peeved.

"Oh God, this could've waited." Gwen wanted to kick herself. "Go back to bed Merlyn, we'll talk later."

"No, you don't. You think I could go back to sleep. Really, you think that." Merlyn mused.

"First, I'll going to say sorry again. I couldn't sleep."

"You called me because you couldn't sleep?" Merlyn didn't hide his annoyance.

"It started with Cassandra. Then Arthur, unable to sleep and me sitting here wondering if I'm not losing my mind." She began.

"I'm awake. You had me at Cassandra."

With that, Gwen told him everything about Cassandra's warning, Arthur's dream and her own sense of dread. At first, Merlyn responded with silence.

"I didn't want to tell Arthur about this, because they were getting along so well. But something is going on with a new project Keira is heading. Another one of her passion projects, I think. Very secret, very hush hush. It's not connected to the finance department and working independently. Every time I try to find out anything about it, I get stonewalled.

"When I come in tomorrow, show me everything." Gwen insisted and Merlyn agreed. With that, she returned to bed and found Arthur deep in sleep. She lay next to him, but was unable to relax. The morning couldn't come soon enough. The only thing she could do was watch her husband, in peaceful repose and prayed it would last.


End file.
